The Damsel Wore White
by WritePassion
Summary: She's back by popular demand! Yvette and Sam work out their relationship while Roche will not give up on killing her. Will Sam be able to make the tough decision and sacrifice everything for Yvette?
1. Chapter 1

**The Damsel Wore White**

By WritePassion

After giving Yvette the necklace that he bought in Rio while on a mission, things changed between her and Sam. He got his first clue when he woke the next morning to the scent of eggs frying in a skillet and fresh coffee brewing. This was dangerous, having her stay with him until she felt comfortable going back to her own place. Roche was in jail and there was no way he was getting out for quite some time. There was no reason for her to be afraid. So as he prepared himself for the day, Sam decided he had to be the tough guy, but gently push her toward leaving.

"Morning, Sam," Yvette greeted him with a smile as bright as the sun coming through the window.

"Morning, Yvette," he replied as he took in the little scene in his kitchen. The table was set and she even had fresh flowers in a glass jar. God only knew where she found those this early in the morning! As he surveyed everything, a chill ran up his spine. He remembered a time long ago when he found himself entrenched in what on the surface looked like domestic bliss, but was in fact a cage that kept him confined. His only escape was going on missions, which in the end drove Amanda away, into the arms of his best friend. The memory touched a chord in him, and he turned away.

"Sam, is everything okay?" She followed him down the hall to his bedroom and watched as he methodically picked up his wallet, phone, keys, and spare change from the night stand and stuffed them into his pockets. "Sam, please talk to me!"

"It's nothing, Am...I mean, Yvette."

Yvette took a step back and stared at him. "Who..."

"It doesn't matter. It's just a part of my past that's better left there, that's all." He shook his head, wishing he hadn't misspoken. "I...I've gotta go meet Michael and Fi at Carlito's. I'll, uh, see you tonight?" He turned and saw the pained expression on her face and immediately regretted being so cold. He took a step and closed the distance between them, and the fact that she met him half way helped to ease his troubled conscience. He took her in his arms and rested his chin on the top of her head as she burrowed into him. "I'm sorry. I...I just don't think this...living together..."

To his surprise, she nodded and looked up at him. "I understand. You don't have feelings for me like I do for you, so this is uncomfortable. I get it." She looked up at him, and in her eyes he saw her struggle to keep the hurt inside. "Will you take me back to my apartment this morning? I don't have to be to work until 10."

"Sure." He gave her a smile, knowing it was hardly enough to console her. "After breakfast?"

"Sounds good." She reached up on tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek, turned out of his arms and hurried to the kitchen to finish making breakfast.

His fingers grazed the spot she kissed. That was the most action he'd had in the bedroom in awhile, but it was definitely the most chaste. He had to wonder about her and her past. Yvette never mentioned a man in her life, ever. When she was young, her family came from Wales and was taken in by the Roche family as servants. However, their employment wasn't at-will. They were being held as slaves because of a debt gone bad, and the Roches held the note. When Yvette was old enough, Frederick Roche brought her to Florida to assist his wife Romana on their yacht. The girl grew up seeing the world, but she could never be free as long as she was under Roche's thumb.

All that changed when Roche had his wife murdered, and Yvette was the sole witness still alive. She barely escaped with her life and nearly lost it in the Atlantic. Only Sam's decision to go fishing that morning saved her, and their lives were intertwined in a way that wasn't entirely comfortable. It wasn't her. It was all him. He had trouble with commitment, plain and simple, and Yvette was too sweet and innocent to fall victim to the mess that was his life. Somewhere was the one woman he bound his life to forever, and forever regretted it afterwards. They never bothered to sever the ties, and now it seemed irrational. Sam needed to find Amanda and end their marriage once and for all. Then maybe he wouldn't feel so guilty about letting Yvette into his heart.

"Sam? Are you coming out here, or what? Everything's ready!"

"Yeah. I'll be right there." He made a mental note to call his buddy in Houston and find out what he knew about Amanda's whereabouts. If that didn't pan out, he'd use his other sources to find her. Then he would contact her and get it over with. He'd been kidding himself if he thought that simply forgetting about it would make the problem go away. And usually that was just not in his nature. Time to take out the trash of his past, clean house, and start fresh.

After breakfast, Sam noticed that Yvette was eager to pack up and go, so he said, "I'll take care of this stuff. You just...get yourself together."

"Okay. It won't take long, I promise."

He picked up the dishes, carried them to the sink, and set them in a bath of soapy water to soak. He would deal with them later when he returned to the apartment. He understood that his reaction hurt her, and it grated on him. If he was clueless about anything, it was how to deal with a fragile heart. For a moment he considered calling Fiona while Yvette packed, but he didn't need that Irish temper flaring up at him. That wouldn't help matters. He was surprised how little time it took her to pack, but then she was only there for one night. One night too many. He would be kicking himself for this for a long time to come.

The ride to the apartment was too quiet, so Sam drove with the window down just for some background noise. Yvette let out a small relieved breath as they arrived, and she got out before he could be a gentleman and open her door. He watched her slam the door, trying to figure out her silence and haste, and met her at the back of the car while he popped the trunk. They both reached for her suitcase at the same time. She gave him a placating smile and said, "I can take my stuff up alone, thanks." She grabbed her suitcase, but Sam pulled her other bag out of the trunk, and without another word she grabbed it and headed for the building.

"So much for letting her down easy," he muttered as she disappeared inside. He was about to slam the trunk lid when he spotted a movement in his peripheral vision. Carefully, he scanned the area around him, searching for...he had no idea what. All he knew was that something was not right. Movement in a black SUV in the parking lot, half hidden by two shade trees, got his attention. He peered at the vehicle and noticed that one of the two men spoke into a walkie-talkie. The fine hairs on the back of Sam's neck prickled as his instincts kicked in. In one fluid movement, he reached into the trunk, pulled out a semi-automatic handgun from a side pocket, and slammed the trunk lid as he tucked the gun into the back of his waistband and let his shirt drop over it.

He hurried up the walkway to the building, knowing full well that his actions would spook the occupants of the SUV and make them hesitate. But if they had a crew inside, Sam was taking a chance that they had already been alerted that he was on the way. As he hit the stairs running to his destination on the fifth floor, he looked up between the staircases. Footsteps were coming, and suddenly, a woman he knew had to be Yvette screamed. A head appeared, and Sam recognized that it was one of Roche's men who had promised to turn state's evidence in exchange for freedom. He didn't waver as he took a shot at Sam, who was at a disadvantage, because he had no idea where Yvette was. He didn't want to shoot and accidentally hit her. The footsteps, instead of approaching as he expected, headed in the opposite direction. He followed. With every landing, he was thankful that he'd gotten himself in shape or he would be a vulnerable, heaving mess when he reached the rooftop.

Sam stopped at the door and waited, but he heard nothing. There was no way they could have found another way out, so he pushed the door open with one hand while he stayed out of the direct line of fire. Someone out there was determined to kill him, because they opened up the rest of their clip on the door. When he heard an ineffective click, Sam popped into the doorway with his gun drawn on the would-be assailant. The man stood near the parapet, and as Sam took one step forward, he took one back. Yvette was turning red, and Sam knew by the way the man had his arm locked around her throat, it was only a matter of seconds before she would pass out. Then she would fall, and he might have a clear shot.

"Put the girl down," Sam called across the open space.

"Oh yeah, I'll put her down alright," the captor answered with a sneer and twisted Yvette so her body ran into the short wall around the roof, and she doubled over. Her hands gripped the worn concrete, saving herself from a fatal fall.

"Yvette!" Sam took a step and a flash of movement came from his left. He threw out his arm and dropped the guy with a chop to the larynx. He returned his attention to Yvette and the leader, who had her back in his grip.

"You...and your friends think you're so smart. You really thought we were gonna just rat on our boss? This is bigger than just some rich dead wife. You have no idea, and you're never gonna know, because the only people getting out of this alive are me and the boys."

Sam suddenly found himself face down in the loose roofing gravel as a third man pounced and pinned him down with a gun pressed into the back of his skull. Yvette's screams were useless now. He might as well just loosen up and hope he could take the guy by surprise. He heard cold, bitter laughter and stole a glance up at the leader. The guy kind of reminded him of Sugar, Michael's old drug dealing neighbor, except Sugar turned out to have some heart. This guy must have had a big empty space in his chest where his heart should have been.

"So what are we gonna do with these two?"

"Mr. Roche wanted us to end this thing the way it should have ended months ago."

Sam heard the unmistakable ripping sound of duct tape being pulled off a roll. His captor grinned as one of the guys from the SUV began to bind up his hands. He glanced up at Yvette, and she was getting the same treatment. Terror colored her eyes a violet blue, and she screamed again, but the leader backhanded her and she crumbled to the rooftop. Her hair fell in front of her face, so he couldn't get her attention. They taped her mouth shut and didn't care if a few tendrils got stuck into the makeshift gag.

"Get up!" Someone hauled Sam to his feet with enough force to cause his shoulder to pop. The pain nearly caused him to drop to his knees, but he endured it. He had no choice. If he showed any sign of weakness, their captors would have complete control. It was best to keep his pain hidden and bide his time, continuously searching for an opportunity to escape.

Since it was the middle of the morning and few people were about, their captors easily got Sam and Yvette downstairs and into the waiting SUV without anyone seeing that something was odd about their little group. They were both thrown into the back without benefit of seat belts, and there was no chance anyone would see them because the windows were heavily tinted. They lay on their sides, facing each other, with their knees touching and Yvette's head against his chest. The driver hit a bump and the landing irritated Sam's sore shoulder. Yvette's eyes widened and conveyed her concern. He shook his head, trying to tell her he was okay. It seemed as if the aim of this kidnapping was more than a double murder. They wanted to torture their victims a little before ending it. Sam lost track of time as they drove around and took a lot of turns. A couple of times the men stopped and got out to confer before taking to the road again. He had no idea if they were still in the city, up the coast, or for all he knew, they could be heading for one of the Keys.

The SUV swung in a wide arc and stopped. The doors slammed. Sam prepared himself to take an offensive posture, and as the hatch swung upward, he lashed out with both feet at the man who stood in the way. The captor screamed as his knee bent backwards, and he dropped like a bag of lead. Sharp pains assaulted Sam's shoulder as he used it to force himself into an upright position. Unfortunately, there were too many other of Roche's men to get the jump on him. They pulled him out of the vehicle and before he could try anything, he was knocked unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Sam, wake up."

Yvette's voice whispered softly, and Sam's eyes flew open. Either he'd gone blind, or night had fallen. Then he realized he was just blindfolded. He felt hands touching him, one of them softly caressing the side of his face. The last thing he remembered was being hit by the butt of a rifle. He had no idea how many hours had gone by.

"Yvette?"

"Yes, Sam, it's me!" She pressed herself against him, against his shoulder, and he sucked in a breath. "I'm sorry! Did they break your arm?"

"No, just threw out my shoulder. Wouldn't be the first time, I'll be fine. Where are we?" He paused as he paid attention to the rhythmic up and down motion beneath his back. "We're on a boat, and it's moving."

"They're going to kill us and dump our bodies in the ocean, aren't they," she declared without a hint of a question in her voice. If anything, there was a deep-seated anger in the tone.

"Not if we can get free. Are you still taped up?"

"Yes, but I've been spending my time wisely. I found a sharp object and I've been tearing the tape." She snorted. "These guys really are stupid. If they wanted to keep us secure, they should have used something besides duct tape."

Sam laughed. "Good point. When you get free, can you help me?"

"I'm right on it." With a little grunt, she pulled her hands apart and the last of the tape fell away. "Just have to get this...blindfold...off. Wow, it's really dark in here. It must be night."

Yvette removed the blindfold that pressed into his eyes, and the tape wasn't far behind. He carefully moved his right arm, being wary of the condition of his shoulder.

"Here, let me help you sit up, Sam."

"Thanks. What I really need is a good place to pop this shoulder back into place." A small gasp escaped him. "It really hurts." He got to his feet and found a wall, then walked the perimeter until he determined that the room they were in was very small. A post in the center was adequate for what he was about to do. "Now, I'm probably gonna make a really nasty sound, but don't worry. It'll be a lot better afterwards."

He wasn't kidding. When he made impact with the post and yelled, Yvette covered her ears. She sat on the floor, huddled over her knees, horrified and scared for him. After a few moments, his breathing evened out, and she realized that he was okay. In the dimness she saw him wandering around the room like a caged tiger looking for a way out. She was incredulous. Only moments before he was in such pain, and now it seemed as if nothing had ever happened. Yvette jumped to her feet and approached him, laying a gentle hand on his wounded shoulder.

"Sam...are you sure you're okay?"

"Yep. Never better, if you don't take into account that we're being held against our will. This hold has to be about six by eight feet. Empty of everything but us. And that door is solid." He pressed his ear against it and listened, but he heard nothing. "I can't be sure if anyone is on the other side." He let out a frustrated grunt, met Yvette in the middle of the room where she sat, and settled next to her. "It's okay, we'll get out of here."

"How?"

"I'm workin' on it. And hopefully by the time these guys decide to feed us to the sharks, I'll have something in mind."

No sooner were the words out of Sam's mouth, than the door opened and two men entered. A light from the hallway blinded the captives, and they held up their hands against the glare.

"They're loose!" Hands grabbed them and roughly pulled them to their feet. Yvette tumbled into the narrow hall and her guard reached down to pick her up.

Sam took advantage of the distraction and kicked the guy in the side with enough force to send him sprawling over Yvette's legs. She screamed, squirmed, and kicked him away as Sam hauled off a left hook that took down his guard. For good measure, he kicked him out of the way and grabbed the fallen man's gun.

Forgetting about his shoulder which, truth be told, still ached, Sam reached for Yvette with his right hand. "Come on! Let's go!" The pain set him off balance for a moment. "Pull yourself up, Yvette! I can't carry you!" She pulled against Sam's arm, careful not to cause any more harm. "Now let's get up on deck and see if we can make a break for it."

They took the stairs two at a time and emerged topside. The sun was setting in the west, and they were several miles from Miami. Far enough to make it difficult if not impossible to swim, but close enough to see the high rise office buildings and hotels. With Sam's sore shoulder, he would find it more in the impossible range. They needed the lifeboat. Footsteps thumped on the deck, and they turned to face three men with guns drawn.

"Yvette get behind me!" Sam lifted his weapon and fired on them. One, two, three, they went down. Another came from the port side and fired at him. Yvette screamed and ducked, pulling Sam down with her. His shot went wild, and the concussion of hitting the deck forced the gun out of Sam's hand so it skittered across the space between him and the assailant who quickly closed in. Sam rolled onto his stomach and reached out for the gun as the man stepped on it and slid the weapon just out of his way. Desperate, he reached for a pant leg and pulled hard enough to displace the man's balance. A gun went off. Sam felt a hot wisp scratch his back as the bullet barely missed him and embedded itself into the deck.

Another gun went off near his ear, nearly deafening him. The last man standing between them and freedom fell hard on the deck, a hole seared into his chest. Sam pushed himself to his hands and knees and turned toward Yvette.

"Sam...I did it...that...I shot him!" Yvette's eyes registered her disbelief.

"Yeah, you did. I didn't know you could shoot."

She smiled. "Fiona taught me."

"I should have known," Sam replied with a grin. "Let's find the lifeboat and get out of here." He picked up a gun and grabbed her hand with his free one, and together they fought the rolling of the deck as they hurried to the stern.

"Oh my, Sam...I feel like I'm in the middle of a rerun," she declared as they neared the small boat.

"Only this one's going to end a lot differently."

"Good or bad?"

"Good, if we don't stick around here and jaw about it! Let's go!" He untied the stays that kept the boat from dropping from the cruiser. He and Yvette got inside, and working together, they lowered it into the water. Just as it hit a wave, the men they left unconscious down below deck came up a set of back stairs and sprayed a haphazard stream of bullets at them. "Get down, Yvette! Get down!" He returned fire until his clip ran out, while Yvette started up the engine. He threw the gun overboard and she kicked the engine into gear before handing over the helm. More gunfire peppered the water around them, but Sam was too focused on his goal to get them safely to shore.

Eventually, the sound of gunshots died in the breeze, and they were clear of the boat. He took one look back and saw the pinpoints of the running lights on the boat and a searchlight that someone turned in their general direction. The boat was following them heading west, but he hoped they had enough of a lead to make it difficult for them to catch up.

"Sam, we've got a problem."

"What? What's the problem?" He returned his attention to the front of the boat where Yvette knelt. She used her hands to bail out water that came in through the bottom.

"We've got a leak somewhere."

"Just keep bailing. I'll get us to shore." He sounded so cool and collected, but inside, he was anything but. The Miami shoreline was getting ever closer. They just needed to get near enough to make some noise and attract attention to get help. He wished his captors hadn't emptied his pockets, because a cell phone would have been really good to have right about now. A quick call to Mike, and their problem would be solved.

They were close enough to see people walking along the beach two by two, romantic couples enjoying the salty night air and the warm ocean water on their feet. It reminded Sam of dinner the night before. He could hardly believe that was only 24 hours ago, because it seemed as if what they'd been through had lasted for a week. His musings were cut short by the whistle of a bullet as it whizzed past his head, followed closely by another.

"Sam, they're gaining on us!"

"I know! I've got this throttle full out!"

They heard a distinct pop, followed by air escaping from the inflatable side. "No!" Yvette screeched and tried to cover the spot with her hand, but it was useless. "Sam, what are we..."

Sam abandoned his position at the engine and crawled forward just as a second shot zipped past him. More bullets followed. He hadn't been in a one-sided gunfight like this in a long time. He was close enough to reach out and grasp Yvette's hand, but she jerked and slipped away. Her body fell backwards over the side, head first.

"Yvette!" Sam took a deep breath and slipped into the water after her. He dove deeper and deeper, searching frantically in the darkness. Something brushed his fingers, but it was out of his reach in an instant. He could hold his breath for a long time, but he was getting close to three minutes and losing hope. He touched bottom, and there he found something soft. Yvette's body.

He pulled her close against himself and used his free arm to swim to the surface. Spots danced behind his eyelids. If he didn't break the surface soon, he wouldn't be of much use to her or himself. When his hand broke the plane, quickly followed by his wrist and arm, he thrust his head out and opened his mouth wide to suck in a healthy breath. As he brought Yvette to the surface, he looked around. The boat was heading up the coast, away from them, and somehow they traveled a good distance from it. Sam suspected that they got impatient after a couple minutes and took off, thinking their mission was accomplished.

One thing Roche's men didn't count on was the fact that all the shooting got some attention from the shore. As Sam floated with Yvette still wrapped in his arm hold, he saw a small police boat speed across the waves with lights flashing and siren blaring, heading for the retreating boat. Another was close behind. If he could just get their attention...

"Hey! Over here!" He tried waving his arm, kicking his legs furiously to keep them afloat. What he wouldn't give for a flare gun at that moment! The boat sped past with only about 50 yards between them. "Hey!" He went down, then sputtered coming back up. He had no choice but to swim for the shore. Yvette wasn't moving or breathing from what he could tell. If he could just get her far enough in where he could stand, he might be able to start resuscitation efforts while he hauled her to the beach. She was right, this was like a rerun, but not like the first time. This time, Sam was afraid he would fail her.

"Hey mister!"

Sam turned his head and almost got a mouthful of salt water as he gaped at the speedboat that drifted up to them. "Thank God! Where'd you come from?"

"We followed the cops out of the marina," the young man steering the boat replied as he leaned over the side and reached for Yvette. "Couldn't believe they ran right past you, man."

"It doesn't matter. Just...just take her." He was starting to run out of gas.

Two other men reached down and pulled Sam out of the water. "Ahh, watch the shoulder!"

"Sorry, dude."

The driver and a woman settled Yvette on the deck while Sam worked the pain out of his shoulder.

"She's not breathing. Oh my god, she's been shot!" The woman exclaimed and backed away as Sam pushed her aside.

"Don't worry about that, just get us to shore. And somebody call for an ambulance!" He leaned over Yvette. Blood seeped from a hole in her upper arm, just a flesh wound basically. But she wasn't breathing, and that worried him the most.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Sam was oblivious to the activity around him as he started breathing into Yvette. The woman hovered nearby and offered to help with CPR if necessary. He knew he acknowledged her, but he had no idea what he said. Keeping Yvette alive was his only aim. The sleek boat bounced over the waves as the driver opened the throttle and made quick time of getting back to the marina. The skipping motion made his task more difficult, but he persevered.

The boat slid into the launch at the marina, where the atmosphere around them was painted red and blue from the flashing lights of squad cars an an ambulance with two paramedics standing by. As soon as the boat stopped, they hopped in and pushed everyone aside. Only Sam remained hunched over Yvette's still form, breathing for her. It was like a replay of before, only she hadn't yet recovered and there were a lot of people around who could help this time.

"Sir, please step aside. We can take it from here," one of the paramedics urged Sam with a hand on his arm. "It's okay, we'll take good care of her."

At first he barely registered them, but when the paramedic's partner leaned over to check Yvette's pupil reaction, the light startled him and he was suddenly aware of everything going on around him. Still, he found it hard to back off. The kids from the boating party helped him to his feet and onto the pier. He wanted to stay. He was supposed to save her. An officer grabbed for his arm and prevented him from going back down to the boat.

"Sir, you have to wait here. They're professionals, they know what they're doing."

Sam could only nod.

"Is there someone we can call for you?"

"Yeah...no...just give me a phone, will you?"

The boat driver handed him his phone. "Here you go, man."

"Thanks." Even in his daze, Sam knew Michael's number by heart. He waited, impatiently pacing in a small circle as it went to voicemail. He tried to sound casual, but his voice shook, "Hey Mikey, it's Sam. Heh, I'd ask you to call me back, but, uh, Roche's men have my phone somewhere. I'll, uh, talk to you later." He tried Fiona next and came up with her voicemail as well. _ Where are they?_ He hoped that Roche didn't get them too.

"No luck, huh?"

Sam shook his head. "There's someone else I can try, if you don't mind."

"No man, go for it."

As he dialed Jesse's number, his eyes locked on the scene in the boat. The paramedics were nearly ready to move Yvette to the waiting gurney. They had oxygen on her, so she was breathing again, but beyond that...

"Hello?...Hello?"

Shaking his head, Sam returned his attention to the phone. "Jesse! It's Sam!"

"Sam? Where are you, man? Michael and Fiona have been looking all over for you. Maddie and I have been combing the city..."

"Never mind, we're at the marina," Sam answered brusquely. "Yvette and I were kidnapped by Roche's guys, taken out on the sea...we got away...Jess, Yvette...she's been shot, and I almost..." He stopped to catch himself. "If it hadn't been for some boaters, we never would have made it to shore."

"Okay, just take it easy, we're almost there. I'll call Michael..."

"I tried him but got his voicemail."

"No problem, I see him now. We'll talk when we get there."

"Thanks, Jesse." Sam returned the phone and watched helplessly as the paramedics loaded Yvette onto a gurney and into the ambulance. HIs mind urged him to follow her inside, but an officer held him back.

"Sir, please. I need you to answer a few questions. What's the victim's name?"

"The victim..." He nearly spat out the words, but calmed himself. "Her name is Yvette. Yvette McCain."

"And yours is..."

He almost answered Chuck Finley, but he didn't want to get his alias involved. "Sam...Sam Axe."

The cop nodded and wrote everything down. "Mr. Axe, could you please tell me what happened to you?"

Sam ignored the question, because his gaze locked on Michael, Jesse, Fiona, and Madelyn hurrying toward him. His shoulders sagged with relief. He never thought he would see them again, and he felt a sense of peace, the kind he imagined some people felt when they saw their family after a long time apart. He never had that luxury for himself, so this was the closest he would ever get. Maddie set her intense, emotion-laden eyes on him, pushed ahead of everyone, past the police, and thrust herself forward as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Sam! Are you okay?" He was still soaking wet, but she held him close anyway.

"Yeah, Maddie. I am now." He smiled when she gave him a mother's kiss on the cheek but quickly sobered. "Considering what I've been through...Yvette's on the way to the hospital, Maddie." He paused and looked down into the depths of her eyes. "It doesn't look good."

"Sir, I still need to ask you some questions..."

"What is wrong with you?" Madelyn pulled out of Sam's arms and faced the officer. Her sharp tone made the man step back out of her personal space. "Can't you see that Sam is in shock? He needs to get to the hospital too! Come on, honey, let's go." She put her arm around his waist and led him toward the Charger. Over her shoulder she shot back, "You can talk to him later at the hospital."

"Good to have you back, Sam," Michael spoke softly and clamped a hand on Sam's right shoulder.

"Ahh, Mike!"

Michael removed his hand as if he'd been burned. "Sorry. Did you throw it out again?"

He nodded. "Actually, somebody else did me the favor. One of Roche's guns."

"Speaking of guns...what's the body count?"

_Leave it to Fiona to ask the tough questions,_ Sam thought. Aloud, he replied, "I have no idea. I shot three of them but it's anybody's guess as to whether I killed them. Yvette took out one guy. It was an unbelievable shot. Nice work, Fi, teaching her how to shoot. Probably saved our lives on that boat."

Fiona grinned, elated to know that her efforts weren't wasted. "I had my doubts that she could ever find it in herself to kill a squirrel, never mind a man."

"Just goes to show you never know what someone will do until they're in the middle of a firefight," Jesse declared sagely.

"Very true. Anyway, there were two guys we didn't shoot. So I'd say anywhere between one and four." Sam finished his answer. "Tell you the truth, right now I don't care. All that matters is that Yvette's been shot and I almost lost her...still might."

Michael opened his door and let Fiona climb in back. "Let's get to the hospital and find out how she's doing."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Hours passed, and the wait became nerve-wracking. When they finally got word, it was to hear that Yvette was in a coma in ICU. Only time would tell what the lack of oxygen did to her. For the time being, no one was allowed in unless they were staff or family. Sam didn't sleep, couldn't sleep, and watched the sun rise from the waiting room window. Normally he enjoyed this time, because it was beautiful proof that he'd survived to fight another day. He couldn't help but think about that fateful morning he went fishing. If he hadn't gone on a whim, he wouldn't have been there to save Yvette, only to drag her into more danger and leave her life barely hanging on. Then he realized that if he hadn't been there two months ago, she would have died that day and he never would have had the chance to ever get to know her. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead into the arm that rested against the window frame. Every moment they spent together replayed in his mind. With each one, he became more and more aware of how much she meant to him...how much he loved her. But she was so sweet, and despite her years, innocent when it came to dealing with men. Despite his edge when it came to experience, sometimes he felt she was out of his league altogether, but yet, somehow, she clung to him and loved him for who he was.

He wasn't used to this. His taste in women usually ran to the rich and sexy, and nothing else mattered. Yvette attracted him in other ways. Yes, she was beautiful, but there was so much more to her, and he loved every bit of it. The one thing that really stuck out was her strength. Despite all she'd been through, she managed to kick some major butt on that boat. She needed to tap into that strength now to pull through, because the prospect of losing her forever caused a deep dark fear to grip his heart and not let it go, and he was helpless to do anything about it.

"Sam, you should really try to get some sleep." Jesse spoke softly, so as not to startle him.

"I can't, Jesse. I..." He shook his head. "Never mind. I can't sleep until I know she's okay."

"I get it, man. Really, I do. It might be a long time before we know she's out of the woods. What are you gonna do until then, kill yourself through a lack of sleep?"

He turned and faced Jesse, his eyes clouded with emotions so deep, Jesse had to take a step back. "I know, you're right. But...I've gotta do something."

"There's nothing you can do. Nothing any of us can do but hope and pray she's gonna be okay."

"No, there's something I have to do. Can I borrow your phone?"

"Sure." Jesse handed his phone to him without hesitation.

Sam immediately headed for the hallway. "I'll bring it back when I'm done."

"Sure, take your time."

He left the room so quickly, he nearly collided with Maddie as she returned with a coffee. She grinned at him and said, "Morning, Sam! Want some coff..." She trailed off as he passed without even acknowledging her, and she shook her head in pity. "What's up with him? He didn't get...bad...news about Yvette, did he?"

"No Ma, there's been nothing, good or bad." Michael stifled a yawn. He and Fiona dozed now and then on the comfortable couch in the family lounge, but neither of them got any quality rest. He stretched and stood. "I really hate to do this, but I've got to get to the office and see what Pearce has on a potential case." He stopped, noted the disgusted look on his mother's face, and continued. "Ma, Sam knows I'll be thinking about him and Yvette while I'm gone. This'll only take an hour or two, and I'll be back."

"You better be. Your friend needs you right now."

About an hour later, Sam returned to the waiting area still looking tired, but Maddie detected an urgent desire in his eyes. She wondered what about a phone call could bring that spark to Sam's spirit.

"Hey, where's Mikey?"

"He had to go to the office," Maddie replied with ice in her tone. "I told him he better come back soon. He's needed here."

Sam nodded. "Thanks, Maddie. I need to make a road trip."

"What?"

"What are you talking about, a road trip?" Fiona stood and approached him. "You need to stay here!"

"No Fi, there's something I gotta do. It's been going on for far too long, and until this all happened, I was just cruising along, leaving this in the past and thinking it would never haunt me again." He paused and swallowed. "But I was wrong. I've gotta get it done."

"What are you talkin' about, Sam?" Jesse stood with hands on hips, a puzzled expression on his face.

"I found Amanda." A rueful smile crossed his face. "It wasn't that hard, really, once I called my buddy in Houston. He tracked her down with a couple keystrokes, and he knows someone who can write up some simple divorce papers. So I just need to get to Houston, sign 'em, and get Amanda to sign them. Then it'll be over in just a few months, once it goes through the court system."

"What? What made you decide to do this now?" Madelyn asked.

"He's in love, Maddie." Fiona grinned proudly at Sam. "And this time, it's for real."

Sam gave her a grateful smile. She understood the power of deep feelings, and by her approval, she acknowledged his. That meant a lot to him.

Maddie asked, "How are you getting there?"

"I'll fly. It'll be easier that way, but I won't be leaving for a couple days yet. The lawyer is working on the papers."

Fiona shook her head. "But why don't you just have them serve her the papers, and she can sign and mail them back? It seems like it would be so much easier."

"No. I don't know why, but I have to see her. I guess there are a few things I want to say, and maybe hear what she's got to say to me before it's all over. I know it's crazy. We haven't seen each other for what, 20 years?" He raised a hand as if he were pushing those years aside. "I don't know how long. It's just that it's been far too long that this has been hanging over me." It cost him at least one potential relationship already. This one was too valuable to squander on a technicality.

"Hey, if you need someone to go with you, I'd be happy to," Jesse volunteered and laid a hand on Sam's shoulder. "I'll be right there with you, man."

"I appreciate it, Jesse. But this is something I have to do alone."

Maddie didn't like it that in a couple days Sam was jetting off to Houston alone when he was still suffering over Yvette and her precarious position between life and death. She hated to think how he would react if she died while he was gone. It was a foolhardy mission, but when Sam got something into his head, there was no way anyone could talk him out of it. So she let him go with a motherly hug and kiss, and lots of advice. Every second he was gone, she would worry as if he were her own son.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Sam was grateful that his friend Mack met him at the airport. Since their last encounter, when Sam decked him after years of anger for his messing with Amanda, they'd mended the fences. They would never be best buddies again, but at least they were allies. As Sam headed with Mack to his car, they discussed the plan.

"I talked with the lawyer this morning before I got on the plane, and everything is set," Sam informed him. "We'll pick up the papers, and I'll take them to her. From the information you gave me I found out she works at Houston General in the PR department."

"Does she know you're coming?"

"No, and I want to keep it that way in case she doesn't want to see me. That way, if she still hates my guts, when she does see me, she'll be only too happy to sign the papers. If she runs for other reasons...well, I just don't wanna go there." He sighed heavily and looked out at the traffic surrounding them on the freeway. "I just want to get this over with."

"If she signs those papers, we can get it all taken care of this week."

"What do you mean, Mack?"

"I talked to a friend who happens to be a judge. He handles criminal cases, but he can also take care of divorces." Mack paused and a slow smile spread across his face. "As a favor to me, he said he would hear your case this week once the papers are signed. All you gotta do is get her to sign them, we set a date, and you and Amanda show up. Then it's all over in what, five, ten minutes tops."

Sam stared at him, incredulous. "Mack...I don't know what to say."

"Think of it as one last plea for mercy from my old buddy," Mack replied as he glanced at Sam with seriousness in his eyes.

Sam's emotions were still on edge, causing him to blink back unwanted tears. "Thanks, man. I owe you."

"No you don't. We're even."

They shook over it, and a small smile crossed Sam's lips. "Now, if only it's that easy to get Amanda to sign the papers."

Sam felt a little guilty about blindsiding Amanda this way, but in his mind he reasoned that she was just as remiss as he was in getting this done. Over the years, when he bothered to think about it, he wondered if she ever felt anything for him, and if she did, if that was what kept her from making the first move. Granted, when he was in the service he was a hard man to find. But later, after he was forced into retirement and dropped in Miami like a hot potato, if Mack knew where he was, surely it wouldn't be that difficult for her to find him. He couldn't understand why she didn't pursue it, since she left him so easily, he thought she would have been glad to be the ex-Mrs. Sam Axe.

All his thoughts threatened to cloud his mind as he walked the hallway looking for her office, but he remained focused on why he was there. The woman at the desk gave him good directions. He soon arrived at a frosted glass door with a small plaque on it. It read, "Amanda Larson, Public Relations." Larson. Sam's brow furrowed. That wasn't her maiden name. At his knock, he heard her muffled voice.

"Come on in."

He touched the door handle and it opened easily at the slightest pressure. It was too late to turn back now. He didn't want to run, but a small part of him dreaded this moment. The door swung open and there sat Amanda at her desk. Her dark brown hair hung straight, just like he remembered it, only in a more modern style. It curved around her oval face and framed it so well, he couldn't help but stop and stare at her. He'd forgotten how beautiful she was, especially when she wore red, like she did today.

"Sam?" His name came out as a gasp. She stood abruptly and hurried around the desk to meet him half way into the room, her form-fitting suit accentuating every reason he was first attracted to her. "Is it really you? What are you doing here? How did you track me down?"

"Hello to you, too," he responded with a slightly cool tone that stopped her. "I was hoping for something a little more...welcoming."

"I'm sorry I can't give you that, Sam." She shook her head and looked down at the carpet briefly, struggling to deal with this surprise intrusion. She must have reached deep into her memories, because the tone in her voice changed to detached coolness, the same tone he remembered from when they last spoke. When she informed him that it was over between them. "It's been far too long...I'm just...shocked. I never thought I would see you again."

The coolness in her tone hurt like a slap in the face. He went on the offense and returned her animosity with some of his own. "Hoping you'd never see me again is more like it."

She glanced down guiltily, and a movement of her left hand got his attention. That and the ring on her finger, which her thumb played with nervously. When their eyes met again, he was the one who was shocked.

"You remarried?"

"Of course. Did you really think you were all that? Sorry, I wasn't going to waste my life waiting around for you to come crawling back."

"But...how...how could you?"

"It was easy. I found a man who truly loves me, who would die for me if necessary." She shook her head. "I never got that commitment from you, Sam. Or Mack." She turned her head away for a moment, trying to erase that mistake from her memory.

"That's not what I meant. I meant how could you marry someone else when we're still married?" He shook the file folder he brought with him.

"What's that?"

"Divorce papers. I was going to get you to sign them. Apparently you forgot that we never legally dissolved our marriage."

She turned white for a few seconds, but quickly recovered. "I talked to my lawyer, and he assured me that I could get our marriage annulled. Which I did."

"You did? How could you do that without my consent?"

Her gaze bored into his as she leaned against her desk and crossed her arms. "Apparently, you went missing for awhile in Central America, so that actually made my case even easier. Poor newlywed woman, sort of newlywed anyway, recklessly abandoned by her husband. It made a good case, and the court granted my annulment without your signature."

"Mack never told me about that."

"He didn't know."

In his head, Sam did the math. To the world, he'd gone missing for nearly six months, when in fact he was working deep undercover with Michael Westen to infiltrate a gang of Salvadoran rebels who were not all they appeared to be. He had to play a rogue American fighting for the cause of a band of scumbags. It still made his skin crawl after so long. He wanted to contact her, tried to find a way to do it, but any communication to someone on the outside might have blown sky high everything they accomplished, and maybe even cost them their lives.

"You didn't wait long."

"I figured you were dead anyway, so what was the use of waiting?" She smirked. "The widow's benefits weren't worth sticking around."

The rock in the pit of his stomach was the last thing Sam expected to feel when he reunited with Amanda. He thought there would be something more romantic, like love, or at least a revival of that animal attraction he first had for her. But with her emotionally detached words he came to the realization that it was all a sham. He never really loved her, and it was quite possible that she never loved him. He admired her beauty and loved what she made him feel, but beyond that...it was like a big black hole. At that time in his past, that's all he wanted was the physical side of a relationship. Now he knew what he'd been missing, and he mourned what he could have had back then but didn't because his career was more important than getting emotionally close to Amanda.

"So, you can just take those papers and get out of here, Sam. There's nothing left to sign. If you're that concerned about it, call my lawyer." She rifled through her desk drawer and returned to him with a business card in her hand. "He'll get you up to speed on everything."

Sam expected to assail her with the request for a divorce, but in a matter of ten minutes, she floored him. He took the card, turned it over and over, and stared at her with regret in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Amanda."

"Sorry for what?"

He was even more surprised to see a film of tears that she blinked away. So she did care, at least a little bit. "I'm sorry I wasn't the man you needed. I...I hope the guy you're married to now knows what he's got."

"He does." The first tender smile he'd seen on her in two decades brought her lips to life. "He's a good man. I adore him."

Sam nodded. "Well, good luck, Amanda. It...it was nice knowing you." That sounded so lame after what they shared, but he didn't know what else to say. He was still trying to process the fact that all these years he lived with unfinished business on his conscience, only it was already a done deal. He was a free man. Yet it still didn't seem right, so he called her lawyer, met with him, and saw for himself the yellowing pages that declared that he was indeed single.

He took a red eye to Miami, sitting back in his seat feeling totally drained, and he ignored the drink cart and went for plain water. He was too drawn down to drink. Sleep, that's what he needed but would never get. Especially when he realized that he'd been so focused on his mission that he forgot about Yvette. He mentally kicked himself because he feared that if he wasn't careful, he would repeat the pattern and he would lose her too. When he closed his eyes and tried to doze, she was there, torturing him for not thinking about her, and he could just imagine what his friends' reactions would be when they heard the events of the day, and discovered that he never called the hospital to check on Yvette's condition. The self-condemnations threatened to do him in by the time the plane touched down in Miami. It was so late, he didn't bother calling anyone to pick him up. He just caught a cab.

He should have gone home, but Sam had to pay some penance, so he had the cabbie drive him to the hospital. As he glanced around the nearly empty parking lot close to the visitor's entrance, he didn't see any vehicles he recognized. Michael, Fi, Jesse, and Madelyn probably all went home. He couldn't blame them. After paying the cabbie, he carried his small suitcase into the hospital and made a beeline for the ICU. They said only family could see Yvette, but he was determined to get in and see her, so no matter what he had to do to make it happen, he would do it. He approached the nurse's station, and the cute young thing who glanced up at him with a friendly smile didn't recognize him.

"I'm Sam Axe, Yvette McCain's fiance. I was wondering if...if I could go in and see her."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Axe." The nurse's expression changed to one of sadness and sympathy. "Miss McCain...she passed a couple of hours ago."

"What?" Sam's voice was reduced to a whisper and his knees buckled. The only thing keeping him upright was the counter His knuckles turned white as he hung onto the edge. "No...why didn't anyone call me?" Before he left, he bought a burn phone and gave Michael the number. "They should have called."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Axe. I don't know why you weren't contacted if you were her fiance."

He couldn't breathe. All Sam could do was cling to the counter, hunched over it, waiting for the wave to pass. But it wouldn't stop. It was like being caught in a rip current, except this time it took him down, down without Yvette. Part of him thought that this was just some sick joke, and that at any moment someone would come out and tell him so. The seconds dragged by, but there was no relief.

"Sir, would you like for me to call the Chaplain?" He couldn't answer. Through a haze he saw her fingers touch a few buttons and he heard the one-sided conversation, but the words were mangled. "Mr. Axe? Are you alright?"

Sam's vision narrowed and he felt himself falling down a deep dark hole. This couldn't be happening. The one time in his life when he finally found true love, it was snatched away so rudely. He wasn't so sure he could take it. That was his last thought as he slipped to the cool linoleum floor.

"Sir, are you alright? Sir."

A soft voice near Sam's ear woke him with a start. His fuzzy brain was confused for a moment until his vision focused on the shiny wings on the lapel of her vest. It was the flight attendant, and she smiled at him in a concerned way. He barely even recognized that she was a looker. All he could think about were the remnants of his nightmare.

"Um, yeah, just a bad dream, I guess."

Her smile widened and she patted his shoulder sympathetically. "We've had a bit of turbulence, but the Captain's flying hasn't been that bad, has it?"

She had a sense of humor too, but Sam was oblivious. "Sorry, just got a lot on my mind."

"We're almost to Miami, so I'll need you to put your seat back upright and I'll take your drink."

Sam fumbled for the empty plastic cup, handed it to her, and stowed the tray table before setting his seat upright. "Thanks." She drifted off to the passengers ahead of him and he blinked a few times, cleared his mind, and prepared to touch ground in Miami. His first stop, no matter how late it was, would be the hospital.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

What a difference a day made. Sam arrived at the hospital to discover that Yvette had been moved to a regular room because she regained consciousness and remained that way for a good part of the day. He didn't bother to wait for permission to go up to see her, just brushed past the front desk when they gave him her room number. She was asleep when he entered the room. The sight of her took his breath away and formed a lump in his throat. Careful not to wake her, he slipped into the room, stood beside the bed, and studied her in the dim light filtering down from above her bed. She was so peaceful, looking more like herself, full of color and life, he couldn't resist touching her. He reached out slowly, and with the back of his hand he barely made contact with her cheek, just close enough to feel warmth radiating from her. Then he braved skin on skin, and his rougher hand skirted across the peachy smoothness of her cheek.

Her eyelids twitched, and in a flash, a hand clamped around his wrist. His eyes widened when he realized it was Yvette hanging onto him with such strength. Her eyes opened and focused on him with an intense anger in them, but the moment she registered that it was Sam who stood above her, they softened. She smiled. He smiled back.

"Hey."

"Hey," she croaked.

"Can I, um, have my hand back?"

"What if I say no?"

He leaned over her, close enough to feel her breath. "I'll just have to take some desperate measures..." he replied softly before he closed the distance between their lips and kissed her tenderly.

She managed to say, once she caught her breath, "Sam...what brought that on?" In her surprise and awe, she released his wrist.

He planted his hands on either side of her and hovered, still smiling. "I just wanted you to know that...I love you. I just wish it hadn't taken this to get it through my thick skull."

"Oh, Sam!" She reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down until he half lay over her and kissed him.

It wasn't what he was used to. Not the aggressiveness, but the style of her kiss. It was so unrefined, and it became clear to him that she was, as he suspected, very inexperienced. He wondered how that could be, but given her past, being held as a virtual slave to serve a woman all her life, with no exposure to men other than the crew members, it was a rational possibility. Some day he would ask her about that life, but right now, he had other concerns. Her touch stirred something in him that was better saved for later, so for the time being, he would be content with holding her in his arms.

A cleared throat got their attention, and they both turned toward the door where a nurse stood with arms crossed and a not too pleased expression on her face. "I don't know how you got in here mister, but visiting hours don't start until nine. It's six now, so why don't you go down to the cafeteria and get yourself a cup of coffee...or something...colder. You look like you could use it."

Sam stood and straightened his clothing, knowing full well that his cheeks were flaming. He risked a glance at Yvette and saw they could have made a matched pair. He winked at her and said, "I'll be back later, baby. You can count on it. Maybe I can break you out of here today."

"I'll see you in a little while, Sam. Thank you for coming. Maddie said you went to Houston for something..."

He took her hand and squeezed it gently, all the while aware that the nurse hovered. "Yeah, we'll talk about that later." He planted a quick kiss on her hand, released it, and slipped around Nurse Ratchet to escape the room.

"This isn't some cheap rent by the hour hotel you know," she shot at him.

Yvette giggled at his evasive action, and the nurse closed in on her.

"Who is that guy?"

Yvette sighed and spoke his name as if it were a song. "Sam."

That's all he needed to hear.

Sam had no intention of letting Yvette fend for herself when she was released from the hospital. She moved into his apartment again, although he knew it would create problems. It would take a lot of moral strength on his part to fight his baser instincts. If this were any of his other lady friends, he wouldn't have to be so careful, but Yvette was different. He loved her and had a deep respect for her that he'd never developed with his other relationships. She was one of a kind, and Sam would do anything for her. That started with making breakfast.

He slurped his coffee, swallowed, and yawned. Last night was not a good night. Thoughts of Yvette sleeping beyond the wall of his bedroom tortured him all night long. Dreams of them together hounded him when he did sleep, but they weren't the usual pit of lustful passion to which he was accustomed. There was a lot of white involved, a big, white, lacy, pouffy dress, and he knew what that meant. This was getting serious - very, very serious.

An omelet was cooking on the stove when someone pounded hard on his door. He grumbled at the intrusion and shuffled toward the entrance, but he wasn't so tired that he couldn't grab a gun from its hiding place and take off the safety first.

"I'm coming. Just keep your shorts on." Sam stole a glance through the peephole and saw Michael on the other side with a worried look on his face. He quickly unlocked the door and let him in. "What's up, Mike?"

Michael entered the apartment and looked around. "Where's Yvette?"

"Right here." She smiled and leaned against the kitchen doorway. "Hi, Michael. Care for some coffee?"

"This isn't a social call. We need to get you two out of here now." Michael stopped scanning the living room and focused on Sam. "If you have anything...sensitive...around here, you better grab it and go."

"Mikey, you're not making any sense. What is going on?"

"This." He snapped open the morning edition of the Herald. On page one, a picture of Yvette's apartment building in flames stretched across three columns. "We don't know if they're targeting this place yet or not. Just grab what you wanna keep and get going. Jesse's downstairs with a car. We'll put you up someplace safe until this all blows over."

"Sam, when will they leave us alone?" Yvette's voice shook with anger. "Are we going to have to run for the rest of our lives? I don't want to run, but I don't want to die, either!"

"Don't worry, it's not gonna happen." Sam put his arm around Yvette and steered her toward her room. "Go get dressed, quick! I've got a couple of things to take care of, and then we're out of here. You know my friends will keep us safe."

Just as Sam and Yvette left the room, glass shattered. Michael turned toward the sound and spied a grenade attached to plastic explosives lying in the middle of the room. "Sam!" Michael dove for the hall and flattened the two as the living room erupted into a ball of fire. Michael recovered immediately and yelled, "Is there another way out of here?"

"The balcony!" Sam pulled on the lapel of Yvette's bathrobe, forcing her to stand and move with them down the hall to Sam's room. Once inside, Michael closed the door against the flames and smoke that torched the hall after them. Yvette opened the sliding glass door while Michael raced to the bed, stripped off the sheets, and started knotting them together. Sam emerged from the walk-in closet with a grin. "No need for that. I'm prepared!" He held up a coil of climbing rope and two harnesses as he moved to the balcony.

They tied the rope securely, and Sam clipped his harness to the line. "Come here, Yvette. Wrap your legs around me, that's good, and hang on tight, 'cause we're going down fast." He curled his gloved hands around the line and kicked away from the balcony rail. Yvette sucked in a breath as they soared for a moment before zipping down the line. She clamped her eyes shut, and Sam couldn't help but chuckle a little as his feet hit solid ground and a little yelp came out of her. "It's okay, babe. Now, you can get down. We've gotta let Mike have the line."

"Oh yeah!" Yvette disengaged herself from Sam's back and moved out of the way with him to watch as Michael slid smoothly down the rope. By the time they reached solid ground, the fire department arrived and a small crowd gathered to gawk. Sam dropped the harness, put his arm around Yvette's shoulders, and guided her away from the scene.

"Where's Jesse, Mike?"

"I don't know. Fi was here too, in her car." Michael looked to where they had been parked, but neither one was there. "They're gone."

"Maybe they're chasing whoever did this," Sam suggested.

Michael nodded in agreement. "Well, until they get back...let's find some place for you two. Chances are they know about the loft and Ma's house. We need a new safe house."

"I can't turn my back for five minutes without you blowing something up, Westen."

Michael grinned, but it wasn't a sign of pleasure at seeing Detective Paxson again. "Detective. I think you can I both know this did not involve me."

"Maybe not, but it seems like explosives and you just go hand in hand." Her cool expression softened a little as she turned away from Michael to address Sam and Yvette. "Sorry about your place, Mr. Axe."

"It's okay. I was planning on doing a little redecorating anyway." He glanced at what used to be his apartment, and the whole third floor for that matter. Three ladder trucks were attacking the inferno. With the sprinklers in the building, he held a lot of sympathy for the people on the floors below who would surely suffer from a lot of water damage. _That's a lot of redecorating. _

"I'm surprised that Ms. Glenanne isn't here."

"What do you want, Paxson?" Michael asked, trying to hide his irritation. "We don't have time for chit chat."

"I understand that completely. I'm here to offer you some help."

Michael held back his laughter. "You want to help us? Why?"

"In the course of my investigation, I discovered that Miss McCain could prove to be an even more valuable witness in taking down Frederick Roche than I first thought. Obviously, Roche feels the same way, or he wouldn't have his men working so hard to take out her, and anyone near her." She gave Sam a meaningful glance. "You two are coming with me. We've got a safe house where you're guaranteed to be secure until Roche's men are caught."

"Oh great, this could be awhile," Sam muttered.

Paxson narrowed her eyes at him. "Mr. Axe, I hope you're just being sarcastic. In case you didn't know, we're working very closely with the Feds on this one. It'll be over soon." She turned her attention to Michael. "And you'll be hearing from Agent Pearce. She's allowing you to work with our department."

"I can hardly wait."

Paxson turned on the ball of her foot and gently grasped Yvette's arm. "Come with me. I'll take you to the safe house myself."

"B-but I don't have anything to wear. Everything I own went up in flames...twice." She glanced at Sam's apartment, a lost expression on her face.

"No worries. We'll get you some clothes." She looked Sam up and down, noting that he was already dressed. "You're okay, for now."

"Sam, we'll get this taken care of. Just lay low, and we'll keep in touch," Michael said as he quickly pulled something from the Charger's glove compartment. Then he straightened and pressed a phone into Sam's hand. "I know I don't need to tell you it's only for emergencies."

Sam grinned. "No problem. See you soon, Mikey!"

Yvette sat close to Sam in the back seat of Paxson's car, and he put his arm around her. Her head swung from side to side scanning the scenery outside, taking note of the landmarks, just in case. Sam looked a lot more calm than Yvette, but he still kept an eye on where they were going. He didn't expect them to wind up on Star Island in a beautiful, well-equipped mansion. He also didn't expect that the driver would let them off with Paxson and leave through the guarded gate. Several plainclothes officers roamed the property carrying semi-automatic weapons.

"Wow, you guys really rolled out the red carpet," Sam declared with a grin as he took in the back yard with a view of the ocean and a luxurious Olympic sized pool.

"The fridge is well stocked, as well as the cupboards. Sorry we couldn't requisition a maid, so you're on your own for cooking and cleaning." She noted Sam's disappointed frown. "You didn't think you'd get off that easy, did you?"

"I thought that's what you were here for," he quipped, amused by the expression that told him that he was fortunate for the distance between them, or she would have kicked him to the moon for that smart remark.

"I'll be around. Your quarters are on the second floor, to the right after you get off the stairs. You're adjacent to each other. Makes it easier to keep an eye on you." She turned toward another female officer. "Officer Kowalski will show you around and get you settled." Then she headed to a set of French doors to the right. When she opened the door and moved inside, Sam caught a glimpse of a couple of officers hunched over some surveillance equipment.

"Nice. I think we can figure out our own way around."

Officer Kowalski smiled in a way that Sam figured that she was the antithesis of Det. Paxson. She wouldn't give him any trouble. "I'll leave you alone, if you give me your sizes we can send out for some clothes and things for both of you."

"Oh, that would be great. Thanks!" Yvette got into the spirit of their generosity and readily gave the officer everything she needed. He was less enthusiastic, but followed Yvette's lead. By evening they were outfitted with casual clothes, a couple of swimsuits, and other supplies to keep them comfortable for however long it took to resolve this crisis. He just wished he could be outside the walls with his friends looking for Roche's men.

It took some adjusting, but Sam almost forgot about the past couple of weeks while he reclined in a lounger, facing the sun, and spied on Yvette behind his sunglasses as she floated absently on an air mattress in the pool, occasionally sipping her fruity drink. She looked breathtaking in the one piece suit that hugged every curve and accentuated her positive physical qualities. He contemplated diving in and sneaking up on her, but startling her just wasn't a smart thing to do. She was likely to deck him before realizing that it was the man she loved. Besides, his shoulder was bothering him. Although, he reasoned, stretching those muscles would probably do some good. The doctor never said he couldn't swim. Then again, he never said Sam could rappel three stories down from a burning building, either, and that little excursion still caused his muscles to throb. Rest, that's what he needed. A mojito didn't hurt, either. As he took a sip, he watched Yvette paddle around to the side of the pool, where she placed her half empty drink and got off the mattress.

"Are you getting out," he asked as she walked toward him with a delicious smile.

"I was hoping you'd join me."

"I'd love to, but my shoulder..."

"I was thinking of the hot tub. Heat is good for sore muscles." She held out a hand and he took it willingly, smiling at her as he did so. She led him to the hot tub and stepped down into it. The warmth infused into his body, and he sighed as he sat next to her on a bench and allowed the bubbling water to roll over his shoulder. She laughed. "Was I right?"

"Oh yeah, this is great." He leaned his head against the rounded lip of the hot tub and closed his eyes. One hand held his drink above the water, and the other found her shoulder and slipped around her. "I could get way too used to this."

"I know." She set her drink on the edge, then turned closer into him. "This would be a great place for a honeymoon."

Sam's eyes flew open. "A...what?"

Yvette laughed heartily. "Just teasing, Sam." Her eyes fell on his lips as she innocently licked her own.

"You shouldn't do that to a guy. He might just...just take you seriously." He'd never had a problem talking to a woman before, but suddenly, he seemed tongue-tied. There was only one solution to that problem. He set his drink on the edge next to hers, pulled her into his lap, and captured her lips with his. He'd been wanting this for so long, and so was she, if the way she held onto him was any indication. Her soft sigh held a promise of passion, and she refused to let go of his lips. Finally, he tore himself away to catch his breath.

"Sam...have I told you lately that I love you?" She smiled.

"I think you just did," he replied with a cocky smile. Before she could take control of his mouth again, he stopped her with a finger on her lips. Then he whispered. "I just want to warn you. I don't know about your room, but I know mine is bugged. They may even have cameras on us."

"Why?" She looked alarmed that anyone may have been watching her change. She crossed an arm over her chest and looked around nervously. "Sam, I'm getting so tired of this sneakiness and being pursued. When will it stop?"

"Soon, if Mike, Fiona, and Jesse have their way. But the point is, they're probably using all this to keep an eye on everything and prevent anyone from attacking or kidnapping us." He paused and wrapped his arms around her. "I just want you to be careful. Okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

Sam hurt for her. She had no idea what it was like to be a spy, or to be the best friend of one. Being tailed, surveilled, and accosted were just part and parcel of the job. He was used to it. But he wasn't so sure Yvette would ever get the hang of it. That worried him. If he intended to keep doing business as usual, her not being on board would only cause tension that might tear them apart. Although his dream on the plane was only a byproduct of some heavy duty exhaustion, one thing remained clear and real from the experience: his resolve to not let his casual job interfere with his relationship with Yvette. If things were serious, he needed to analyze how to detach himself from some of Michael's missions. Was he ready to do that? This was the million dollar question.

"You're miles away, dear," Yvette declared as she struggled to get out of Sam's grip.

"Hey, no! I...I was just thinking of something, that's all."

"Well, it must have been something earth-shattering. You were really spaced out there for a bit."

"It is earth-shattering, because you've rocked my world, Yvette. I have to think about things I never thought about before."

She cocked her head. "Like what?"

He kept his voice low so no one else could hear. "Like walking away from the business...Mike's business. I mean, trying to live a normal life away from the guns, the bombs, and all that other stuff." He studied Yvette's expression as he spoke. Her eyes showed that she was starting to understand what he meant. "If loving you means I can't work an op with Mike and the team anymore, then I'll walk away from it all." He swallowed away the last of his reservations. "I choose you."

Yvette gasped and her hands framed his face. "You would seriously do that for me?"

"Yes. I love you that much. I made a mistake the first time I thought I loved a woman, and she left me." He turned his head and kissed her palm. "Ever since then, I've been looking for what I lost and getting into one empty relationship after another because...I don't know...I guess they seemed safe. It was easier to blame it on the job or the lack of her commitment to me...but it was because I was too scared to risk falling in love again." He kissed her bottom lip and spoke against it. "You're dangerous for me, because you've made me see where I went wrong. But I'm not afraid of danger. This time, I want to do it right." He pressed his lips to hers, and hers responded with a new passion. Their limbs entwined and their breaths came faster and more shallow, to the point where Sam usually looked for a comfortable location to continue this. The bedrooms were out. Where else...

Yvette pulled back, her breath warm against his cheek. "Sam...the things you're doing to me...I...I'm sorry. I...I can't do this." She suddenly pushed away, and he was so dismayed at her response that he let her go. Without looking at him, she said, "I'm sorry. I...I shouldn't have...led you on like that."

He watched her push through the shallow water and up the steps. She snagged a towel from a nearby stand, wrapped it around her body like a protective mantle, and hurried toward the house. He should have followed her, but he was too stunned. He was trying to figure out what he'd done wrong. She was scared, maybe. Or possibly things were moving too fast. With a resolution to discover what it was that caused her to run away, Sam got out of the hot tub, toweled himself off as he approached the house, and followed her upstairs where he found her door closed and locked. He knocked . He heard her moving around on the other side, but she wouldn't answer.

"Yvette? Are you okay?" He decided to ask safe questions, since he remembered that the rooms were bugged.

"I'm fine, Sam. Just leave me alone for awhile, okay? I need to think."

"Okay. I'll be around if you want to talk about it. No secrets between us. I've had too much of that in my life."

"No secrets. You have my word."

Sam waited a couple of minutes, but she didn't say anything else. It sounded as if she were getting dressed. With an exhalation full of disappointment, he retreated to his room to change. It would soon be time for dinner. Getting busy in the kitchen would take his mind off what happened in the water, which was the wisest thing, because just one thought of Yvette in that swimsuit was enough to fuel his desire all over again. Sometimes it seemed that sex and food had much in common. They both satisfied desires of the flesh, they were easy to get in his world, but quality over quantity was always best. He would wait until she was ready, and in the meantime, whip up something that would dazzle her taste buds, if not the rest of her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Sam slaved over a hot stove and prepared a spicy pasta dish that one of his lady friends liked to serve him when she was in the mood for love. Luckily he got the recipe before she dumped him, and he memorized it in the hopes of using it someday. Yvette loved it, and she seemed to warm up to him again after dinner as they sat in the solarium, in the dark, watching the stars twinkle outside. They would have preferred to be on the porch, but Paxson made it clear they were not to go outside after sundown. So they shared a narrow settee, holding hands, enjoying the sounds of tree frogs chirping in the warm night air through the screened windows.

He braved a kiss on the back of her hand. She turned and smiled at him, but she looked so reserved in the rising moon. "Sam, I know what you want from me, but...I'm not prepared to give that much of me yet."

"I know, I get it. Can't blame a guy for trying though, can you?"

She chuckled. "No, I suppose not." She hesitated a moment before continuing. "I know you'll probably think me silly, but...I made a vow..."

Sam's eyebrow went up. "What kind of vow?"

"Oh, it's not like I'm a nun or anything." She laughed nervously. "It's that I'm...I'm saving myself for...for marriage. I want the whole package, not just a night of passion."

He felt as if she'd just punched him in the gut. "Wow. I've been turned down in a lot of ways, but that one...well, that takes the cake."

"I wasn't saying it for you to make sport of me," Yvette blurted and stood abruptly. Before she could escape, however, he captured her hand and turned her so she dropped into his lap. He held her there.

"I'm sorry, Yvette. I shouldn't have said it like that." He cradled her head and brought it to his forehead. He spoke soft and low. "You just really surprised me, that's all."

"I haven't had a...a test like this before. I probably shouldn't even be telling you this, but you threaten to undo me. To undo everything I believe in." She pushed away and stood. "And that's one big reason why I don't want to give in, because we may be making the biggest mistake of our lives." She took a step back. "I don't want you to give up your livelihood, your passion, because of me. I'm not worth that sacrifice." She turned and ran from the room, leaving Sam alone with his thoughts.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

He should have been asleep. He was used to many nights of little or no rest while on missions, and this really wasn't any different, except for the cold hard fact that he wasn't in his 20s anymore. He flexed a bicep to prove to himself he was probably in better shape than he was back then, at least before he went into SEAL training. But age was catching up with him. Every day he got older and older, but so did everyone else. It was just part of life. He paced the floor, stopped at the window and cautiously peered through the sheer curtains to see one of Paxson's men patrolling the drive. It was far too quiet after all the drama of the past two weeks. Or had it been longer? Sam shook his head. He'd lost all track of time so he didn't even know what day it was.

_Gotta clear my head_. He threw on shorts, a t-shirt, and shoes, and he stole past Yvette's closed door to tiptoe down the stairs. A guard stood at the foot and glanced up at him in the diffused light coming from the foyer chandelier.

"Hi. Just going to, uh, pump some iron."

The guy nodded and pressed a button on the earpiece sticking out of his left ear. "Subject one is heading for the gym." Sam didn't hear the answer. The guy just jerked his head toward the hall. "It's back that way, three doors down."

"Thanks. I know where it is."

Sam turned on the lights and within seconds another guard blocked the door behind him. "You go right on in, Sir. I've got you covered."

"Yeah, right." He eyed the well-built man. He could have fit in quite well in the military with his stance and the way he held his weapon. "What branch were you in?"

"I was a SEAL, Sir, until I was shot and they sent me home." He looked uncomfortable talking about it.

"I was a SEAL too. I retired a Commander."

The man's eyes bugged and he suddenly came to attention and saluted. Sam restrained himself from laughing. He hadn't had that kind of respect in a long time. He returned the salute. "What's your name?"

"Lt. Patrick Maury, Sir."

"It's nice to see one of my people watching over us." Sam nodded. "Keep up the good work, Lieutenant."

"Sir, yes Sir!" Maury turned his back and kept watch at the door without another word.

Sam started with a walk on the treadmill that built into a run. When that didn't seem to be enough, he worked on the weight machines. Whoever owned this place must have had some deep pockets. The equipment was gym quality. No skimping. He ended his workout with some situps, pushing himself until his gut ached and his shoulder protested again. After the last one, he hung upside down at a forty-five degree angle and panted. Maury appeared with a towel.

"You all done, Sir?"

"Yeah. I think so." Sam sat up and mopped the sweat from his face. "Thanks for keeping watch."

"Any time, Sir. You better get back to bed and rest. No woman is worth losing sleep over." He smiled conspiratorially. How he knew what tortured Sam's thoughts was anybody's guess, unless he heard something courtesy of one of the bugs.

He squinted at Maury, cocked his head to the side and asked, "How old are you?"

"Thirty one, Sir."

With a thin smile, he replied, "You've got time to learn that yes, some women are worth losing sleep over." He passed Maury and patted his upper arm. "'Night, Patrick."

"'Night, Sir." He turned off the light and followed Sam down the hall until he reached the kitchen. The guard in the foyer took over watching as Sam treaded lightly up the stairs and back to his room.

Each of the bedrooms had their own bathroom, so he was able to shower in complete privacy. The warm water cascaded down his tired body and relaxed him. By the time he emerged he was ready to just fall into bed and let a deep sleep overtake him. He quickly succumbed. The tangled web of Yvette and his career could wait until the next day.

It was nearly ten o'clock the next morning when Sam roused himself and dressed. If he hadn't worked himself into such a body-breaking exhaustion last night, he would have found it hard to believe he could sleep so late. Yvette made breakfast, but his portion sat cold and uninviting on a plate in the refrigerator. He wasn't sure where she was, until one of the guards directed him to the library. It was a well-lit room with large windows that faced the water. She sat curled up in an overstuffed chair, her attention gripped by a book cradled in one hand. She was so intent, she didn't notice his arrival until he was almost upon her.

"Good morning, Sam," she greeted him with a warm smile. "You must have been really wiped out. I tried waking you a couple hours ago, but you were really sleeping hard."

"Well, I was up until one or so. I couldn't sleep."

"I can't imagine why not! You've been stretched so thin lately."

Sam took a chair at an angle to hers and stared out on the water that sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight, then let out a deep sigh. "I had things to think about. What you said." He tore his attention away and locked his eyes on hers. "Yvette, I've made up my mind. If helping Mike means not having you in my life, I'd rather not work with him anymore. Besides, I'm starting to get tired of these close calls and tearing around blowing things up and shooting at people. Normal might be good."

"I'm afraid you'd find it all quite boring." Yvette closed the book, set it on a table to her left, and unfurled herself from the chair. She crossed the space between them and knelt at his feet. As she took his hands in hers, she asked, "What would you do if you weren't chasing bad men?"

His attention locked onto her hands and he curled his around them. "To be honest...I have no idea."

"Saving the world is all you know, Sam. And you and your friends do it so well, I can't bear to get in the middle and tear you away from that. You have a good heart and what you do helps so many." She shook her head. "I can't let you stop, sweetheart. Not for me. Not for anything."

"Yvette..."

"Does it really have to be either or?" She squeezed his hands and her midsection pressed into his knees. "Why can't we have each other and we both do what we do?"

"I might be gone a lot..."

"That's okay. It's not like I'd be helpless without you." She smiled. "Sorry, but it's true. I'm not that same damsel in distress that you found in the surf."

Sam chuckled, leaned forward and slid his hands up her arms. "I know, and I'm really proud of you. I just don't want you to have to worry about me every time we go off on a mission. And I don't want my other life to take away from ours. I did that before, and I lost out on something great." His voice reduced to a gruff whisper. "I can't do that again."

"I believe in quality time, not quantity, Sam. Every moment I spend with you is precious. I would like to collect many more so that when you're gone, I can take them out and hold them close. Almost as if you were with me." She bent into his embrace and planted soft kisses on his neck. "I love you so much Sam, I can't live without you."

He held onto her and clamped his eyes shut against the stinging behind the lids. Now he knew there was no way she would ever give up and he could never just let her down gently. Not that he wanted to. If he could, he would run away with her at that moment, find some little romantic place in the middle of nowhere and join his life with hers in the bonds of matrimony. There was no fear of commitment, only of failure, that he would let her down and be less than what she expected. After what he'd done with his life...

Emotion choked him as he whispered, "I don't deserve you."

"So you would deprive me of what I deserve?" She broke away enough to caress his jawline as she spoke. "By denying yourself, you deny me. Is that right? Is that fair to me?"

"No, it's not right. I'm afraid..."

She touched his lips with a fingertip. "No, there's nothing to be afraid of Samuel, dear. Nothing at all. I love you. You love me. That's what matters. That and the fact that I am willing to spend the rest of my life with you, if only you will have me."

He sat up straight and fell back into his chair, but he reached for her hand. "Was that...was that what I think it is? You're proposing to...me?"

Yvette laughed softly and grinned. "If you want to take it that way, yes. Yes, I am!"

He was glad he was seated, or he might have dropped to his knees in shock. "I don't know what to say."

"I think we women own that line. You'll have to come up with a new one." The light from the sun sparkled in her eyes.

In his lifetime, only one other woman proposed to him, and when she did it, he felt as if his whole world crashed down around his feet. He panicked. This time, he felt something different. Liberation. With her he felt free to let his emotions run without fear, and because of Amanda, he was completely unhampered to love again. Yvette was in deep, heart and soul. The only right thing to say was, "Yes."

"Yes, what?" Her eyebrow quirked up as she gave him an impish smile.

"You know what I mean." He laughed. "You're going to make me say it, so fine, I will. Yes, I want to marry you." His expression turned serious as he leaned forward again, took her hands in his, and continued. "I just hope you don't regret it."

"I hope you don't regret choosing me," Yvette responded with a light tone. "Sam, I love you so much!"

He reached behind her and pulled her into him so she lay against the length of his body as he kissed her. When they finally came up for air, he struggled with something behind her back. She tried to see, but he had her tightly wedged in his arms.

"Sam, what are you doing?"

"Just wait, you'll see." One tug, and his grip loosened as he brought his arms around to the space between them. "Here. Since I didn't come prepared for this..." In his fingers he positioned his pinky ring, zeroing in on her left hand. He stopped. "What's that?"

Yvette looked down at the plain silver band on her ring finger. Funny he'd never paid it much attention before. She worked at it until it was free, explaining, "It's a promise ring. Part of that vow I told you about? It's a reminder to keep myself pure, but now..." She slipped it into the palm of her right hand and clasped it tightly. She grinned and said, "So, where were we?"

"Right about here," he replied as he looked down at her hand and guided the ring over her knuckles. It fit perfectly.

"It's like it was made for me," she breathed. "I'll never take it off until you replace it with a wedding ring." She kissed him deeply, but restrained herself from getting him too excited. She pulled back and smiled. "I have an idea." Picking up his left hand, she slipped the silver band on his pinky that was noticeably naked without his ring. "There. Maybe that'll help us both behave until our wedding day."

He laughed. "Well, we better make that soon, because I think it'd take an act of God to keep me away from you."

"Uhoh, looks like we're interrupting something."

Yvette's eyes grew wide and she pushed herself off of Sam, while he struggled to get to his feet without knocking her over. They stood side by side, hands clasped as they stared at Michael and Fiona. He wished he could wipe off that annoying Cheshire cat smile on Fiona's face.

"It's not what you think," he blurted.

"Oh, really..." Fiona answered as she stepped into the room, approached them with Michael close behind, and grabbed his left hand. She held it up, showing off Yvette's ring. "What do you make of this, Michael? I never thought I'd see the day when Sam Axe would give up sex. Or womanizing." She regarded them as they stood under her gaze, still startled and swallowing back their surprise.

Sam ignored her. "So, Mike, what are you and Fiona doing here?"

"It's all over, Sam. We were able to track down the rest of Roche's men."

"Sorry you had to miss all the fun," Fiona added with a lecherous smile. "But I'm sure you two had your own...fun...in this romantic little getaway."

"Nothing happened, Fi." Sam tried to keep his irritation at bay. "And nothing like that will happen until we're married. I gave my word, and I'm wearing this ring to prove it." He snatched his hand away from hers and glared at her.

Fiona's eyebrows raised. She knew she'd touched a sensitive nerve. "Alright then. I suppose that Yvette and I have some shopping to do."

"First, why don't we just get out of here? I'd like to go back...home." Sam swallowed hard. He suddenly remembered that what he called home no longer existed.

"I'm sure my mom will let you stay in the garage, although there isn't much there now, since she gave so much stuff to Yvette."

"And all of that is gone." Yvette's brow crinkled. "What are we going to do?"

"We'll work something out. Maybe you can stay at Maddie's in the spare room, and I'll find a place we can call ours after the wedding." Saying the 'w' word caused Sam to choke up a little. He was still used to being gun-shy about the word and the concept that came with it. In time, that would go away. He was confident of that. Right now, he just wanted to get out of that mansion and start over with Yvette by his side, even if it was in some tiny cottage. Yeah, a cottage on a remote beach. He could get into that.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Sam, will you quit fussing?"

"This collar is just a little too tight, Mike."

The corner of Michael's mouth tipped up. "That's just because you're nervous. Relax. Nothing's going to change after your married. Except for the, um..."

"Yeah. That. Thanks for reminding me, buddy." He tore the bow tie away, pulled open the collar, and unbuttoned the shirt half way down. "I'm sorry, I just can't do this."

"What? Sam, no, this had better not be a joke." Michael turned white. He'd faced a lot of nasty people in his life, but seeing his best friend get cold feet and make the biggest mistake of his life was almost too much to bear.

"Oh Mike, you didn't think...no, no, no! No way I'm backing out now!" He slipped the white suit jacket off, stripped the starched white shirt off his back, and turned to the chair where he'd discarded his street clothes. "I'm sorry, I can't play Chuck Finley at my own wedding!" He grabbed his peach shirt decorated with stylized white palm fronds, and as he put it on, he relaxed and grinned. Buttoning the last button and tucking the tails into his white trousers, he wore a satisfied grin. "Now that's more like it! What do you think?"  
>Michael laughed. "It's much better. I agree completely." He snapped his fingers and suddenly Madelyn entered the room with a grin and two shirts in her hands that closely matched what Sam wore.<p>

"Here you go, boys. Better hurry up, the bride is waiting!" She waited while they changed, sharing a good laugh at Sam's expense.

He narrowed his eyes at them. "You guys had this planned all along, didn't you."

Jesse laughed. "Yeah, well, it was Yvette's idea, really. Did you really think she'd make you wear a monkey suit?"

"I wasn't sure. She made all the plans."

Jesse stood by with a white rose in his hand, twirling the stem in his fingers as he waited for Sam to settle into the more casual jacket that Maddie handed him. "I got news for ya, man, I have no clue how to put this thing on."

"Oh, you men! You can go storming around the world taking out bad guys with a paperclip, but you can't attach a boutonniere?" Maddie joined their little circle and quickly and efficiently stuck the rose on Jesse's lapel. She did the same for Michael, took the rose that Michael had been trying to put on Sam, and shook her head. "That's why you need women! You're hopeless without us!"

As Maddie smiled up at Sam and stuck the pin through the rose stem, he smiled down at her. She was right. In the past month as he worked with Michael and the team, Yvette completed all the arrangements for the wedding without him having to lift a finger. This left him not sure what to expect and he feared the end results would cause his pocketbook to take a major hit. He was already concerned about how much he laid down for a three bedroom house in Maddie's neighborhood, just far enough away to keep a good distance from her, and Miss Reynolds, another one of his failed relationships. Yet it was close enough to be another safe house or base for operations. Sadly it wasn't anywhere near the beach like he'd hoped, but thanks to a former client of his and Fi's, he and Yvette had access to a private island in the Keys for their honeymoon.

It was a plain and simple ceremony and not a lot of guests, but that was fine with Sam. He wanted their close circle of friends and no one else, and that's what he got. Michael stood up for him along with Jesse as a groomsman. Yvette was accompanied by Fiona as maid of honor and Mia, her employer, as an attendant. Mia herself created Yvette's dress, an off the shoulder dream of white silk, sequins placed on the bodice and skirt, which flowed around her legs down to her ankles. Embroidered silver swirls that reminded him of vines caught the afternoon sun and set her to sparkling as she approached him. Their guests stood in a circle around them on the beach at the place where they first met. Beach goers watched in fascination, but they were out of the line of sight and not on his radar. The only thing that mattered was the vision of beauty that held onto his hands and his heart. When she said, "I do," his heart skipped a beat. When he said, "I do," she clasped his hands a little tighter. Their kiss sealed the bond before everyone, but he looked forward to the night when they could finally be alone. The next time Fiona gave him that look, he wouldn't have to say nothing happened, because something had definitely happened. He was married to the woman who brought life back to him.

After a party at Carlito's, where drinks were on the house, Sam and Yvette rode in the back of the limo to the marina. The client's private yacht awaited, and they would soon be whisked away to the island with a tiny bungalow prepared just for them. It wasn't as opulent as the mansion where they declared their pledge to marry, but it would do just fine. The driver pulled up to the dock and parked the limo, then came around to open the door and let them out.

"You two look great. Congratulations, Sam."

"Thanks, Nate. Thanks for coming all the way from Vegas to help us out."

"Any time, man. You keep on keeping my bro safe, and you can have anything you want." He shook Sam's hand, gave Yvette a kiss on the cheek, and wished them the best of luck. He didn't leave until the boat set sail and the couple waved at him from the stern.

The trip to the island would take a couple of hours. While it was tempting to take their little party below deck, they enjoyed the balmy breeze while sharing a bottle of champagne. Yvette was starting to feel the effects of all the alcohol, because she wasn't used to drinking much of anything. "Sam, I think I have to stop. I'm feeling a little woozy."

"It's okay. I'm surprised you drank as much as you did." He took her glass and set it aside with his. Then he circled her waist with his arm and helped her sit on a bench seat. "Maybe once we're off the boat you'll feel better."

"I hope so. I wanted this to be so perfect." She looked as if she might cry.

Sam recognized what was happening. She didn't need perfection. That was just a smokescreen for fear. He held her close and spoke softly to her, "Nothing is perfect, babe. But whatever happens tonight will be as close as we can get, so just relax and enjoy it." He kissed her fear and tension away, and soon the captain announced that they were at the island. Yvette was so relaxed, she couldn't get her sea legs when she stood, so Sam swept his arms under her legs, picked her up, and carried her down the pier to the beach. He lost his footing in the soft sand and almost dropped her, but she didn't care. She was having fun. One of her pumps dangled from her toes, and with a flip it landed in the sand.

"Whoops!" She laughed.

He laughed with her. "We're almost there."

She stayed in his arms until he carried her over the threshold of their accommodations. Then she slipped down, slowly down his body and held on with her arms circled around his neck. "Sam...you know what to do. Just be gentle with me."

"Of course, sweetheart." He kissed her tenderly. "I wouldn't have it any other way." The only time he was apart from her was when he closed the door and locked it behind them. They were the only ones on the island other than the crew on the boat that would be at their beck and call all week, but old habits die hard.

Yvette backed into the bed and watched as Sam approached her, his eyes never leaving hers, taking off his suit jacket and letting it fall onto a chair. He met her at the bed and cradled her head in his hands. "You were so beautiful today. Ravishingly beautiful. It was all I could do to keep my hands from you. You made it way too hard to behave myself."

She chuckled low. "Well, there's nobody around now. You have free reign, darling."

Although her invitation was bold, her body gave her away. She trembled at his touch, but as she became more confident in her movements and took charge of removing his shirt, the tremors took on a new tone. Her desire was set aflame for him, and she would not be satisfied until she'd had him completely. Sam smiled into the crook of her neck as he worked the buttons on the back of her dress. He would oblige her in any way she saw fit. Slowly they undressed each other, and by the light of a pale moon they made love for the first time. He was gentle, she was timid. But after the first movement, she wrapped herself around him and begged him for more. She was like a wild animal unleashed, and she was eager for more until he was completely spent. In the wee hours before dawn, both satisfied, she fell asleep. They couldn't have been happier.

As he lay there with their limbs tangled, Sam felt a deep sense of contentment. Without her, he would have probably been spending another lonely, empty night in some bar, looking for love in the wrong places. Thank God that a damsel in distress rescued him from his lonely existence, turned his world upside down, and changed his life for the better. The sound of the waves hitting the beach lulled him off to sleep and to dreams of even better days yet to come.


End file.
